Can't Fake That
by Love the Omni
Summary: "I can fucking take care of myself," Mickey growled, despite the weak look of relief on his face. Ian just ignored him and kept pressing the cold cloth to Mickey's burning cheeks. "Go back to sleep, Mickey." sick!fic in which Ian takes care of an unwilling and fever-delusional Mickey. Ian/Mickey gay slash fic


**Can't Fake That  
**

Summary: "I can fucking take care of myself," Mickey growled, despite the weak look of relief on his face. Ian just ignored him and kept pressing the cold cloth to Mickey's burning cheeks. "Go back to sleep, Mickey." sick!fic in which Ian takes care of an unwilling and fever-delusional Mickey. Ian/Mickey gay slash fic; in my mind this is set somewhere in season 2 but that's not really relevant

Disclaimer: I don't own Shameless, obviously.

I was extremely sick this week with a nasty fever and _two_ ear infections. I really wasn't feeling up to finishing the smut fic that I've been working on, so I wrote a sick!fic instead. :D You have no idea how much I _needed_ to write this. D: I wish I had someone to take care of me. LOL

I'm actually amazed that I was able to scrounge up enough brainpower to write this. I might edit it later, if there are any errors. Let me know if you spot any!

I hope you enjoy it~ Don't forget to review/comment~ :D

* * *

Ian sighed heavily as he rang the doorbell to the Milkovich house.

Honestly, the redhead was upset. Mickey sent him a text earlier that night cancelling their plans to hang out and fuck. The bastard didn't even bother to give an explanation. Maybe he just had better things to do.

Or maybe he found someone else to fuck...

Whatever. Instead of moping around, Ian made plans with Mandy to go see a movie. He was determined not to let Mickey's detached attitude get the better of him.

He knocked on the door again, impatiently.

"Alright, alright!" Mandy's voice shouted from inside the house. She opened the door. "Sorry, Ian. I forgot to tell you: I can't go see that movie with you after all."

Ian frowned. This was turning out to be a really shitty day. "Why? What's up?" he asked.

"My fuckhead dad decided last minute that he was gonna take my brothers with him out of state. Some guy didn't pay up so they've gotta go chase him and pistol-whip him a bit. They'll probably be gone for a couple days, so that leaves _me_ in charge of taking care of Mickey," she said, rolling her eyes.

Ian raised his eyebrows in concern. "Why would Mickey need you to take care of him?" he asked. Mandy sighed and shook her head in annoyance.

"The asshole went and got himself sick. And he's too _stupid_ to take care of himself properly, so _I've_ gotta do it," she grumbled.

So Mickey was sick. That explained a lot. Ian felt a little happier knowing that Mickey didn't willingly ditch him.

"I can stay and help if you want. Maybe we can pop in a movie or something?" he suggested.

Mandy grinned, liking the idea. "Alright, why not?" she said. "Wanna stay all night?"

"Sure," Ian replied with a grin. Mandy opened the door wider to let him into the house.

"You came just in time, actually," she said. "Mickey just finished his chicken noodle soup and passed out. I was about to make some pizza. Want some?"

"Sure," Ian replied.

Mandy walked into the kitchen to preheat the oven, but Ian lingered in the doorway for a minute. He looked at Mickey's bedroom door and chuckled at the image of Mickey being sick and eating chicken noodle soup.

He wanted so badly to go and see him, but he knew it wasn't the time. Instead, he looked away and followed Mandy into the kitchen.

* * *

The movie they were watching finally ended and the credits began to roll. Mandy yawned widely, stretching herself out on the couch. She reached for the remote to turn the TV off.

"I'm gonna go to sleep," she said. "I got ya a pillow and a blanket. You sure you're alright with sleeping on the couch?"

"Yeah," Ian said, nodding. "I'm fine."

Mandy grinned. "Alright, then. Good night," she said. She walked out of Ian's view and into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

Ian waited a moment, making sure that Mandy got settled in before he made his move.

Slowly and soundlessly, Ian got off of the couch and walked over to Mickey's door. He hesitated a moment, not sure if Mickey would be in the mood to see him. But _he_ needed to see Mickey. So he opened the door anyway and quietly stepped inside.

As soon as Ian shut the door and he saw Mickey, a wide grin spread across his face.

Mickey was sprawled out on the bed, his face relaxed as he drooled in his sleep. There was no trace of his usual tough-guy attitude. He looked almost... sweet.

Ian chuckled, knowing that he would be _so_ dead if Mickey could hear his thoughts. He walked over and sat on a chair next to Mickey's bed.

Mickey stirred at the sound of Ian laughing, slowly blinking awake. He rubbed his eyes in confusion when he spotted Ian.

"Gallagher?" he mumbled groggily. "Wha... what you doin' here?"

"Came to see Mandy. She asked me to stay the night," Ian explained. "Don't worry, she's asleep. It's just you and me." Mickey relaxed at that. Even half-asleep, he was always on edge about someone catching them together.

They sat in silence. Mickey coughed and panted heavily with each breath. He was barely conscious, his eyes glazed over with a far-away stare.

"So _this_ is why you ditched me today," Ian commented, trying to make conversation. "You could've just told me you were sick."

"Fuck off," Mickey grumbled. He didn't like admitting that he was weak enough to let a simple cold get the better of him.

Ian opened his mouth to reply, but he was interrupted by Mickey having a sudden, loud coughing fit. Mickey clutched at his chest with one hand and covered his mouth with the other as his whole body shook violently.

Once the coughing finally stopped, he sighed, wiping the sweat off of his own forehead.

Ian looked around and saw a wet washcloth on the bedside table. He leaned in and dabbed at Mickey's forehead with it. Mickey sighed in relief at the coolness on his skin.

"I can fucking take care of myself," he growled, despite the weak look of relief on his face. Ian just ignored him and kept pressing the cold cloth to Mickey's burning cheeks.

"Go back to sleep, Mickey," he said, not wanting to argue. Mickey grumbled a response that Ian couldn't hear, but he allowed Ian to stay where he was.

They sat in silence once again. Mickey drifted in and out of consciousness, and Ian was content with just watching him for a while. The younger boy was enjoying just sitting there and taking care of Mickey. He knew that if Mickey had been able to think straight, he _never_ would have let Ian baby him in such a way.

Ian could tell that Mickey was in a lot of pain, even in his sleep. His face contorted in discomfort and he was shivering. His whole body shook with chills.

Ian sighed, crawling over Mickey and onto the other side of the bed. He lay down and settled against Mickey's back, wrapping his arms around the smaller boy. He pulled Mickey in and rubbed at his arms, trying to get him warm.

He ran his hands back up to Mickey's shoulders, massaging them gently to release the tension. He could feel Mickey slowly start to relax.

Mickey stopped shivering, and aside from the occasional cough, his breathing began to even out. When Ian was satisfied that Mickey had finally loosened up, he laid his arms back down, one settling over Mickey and the other shoved below a pillow lying above their heads.

Ian sighed contently. He felt comfortable with Mickey sleeping in his arms.

If only he could fall asleep too and they could stay together just like that...

"Hey, wait..." Mickey said suddenly. Ian's eyes opened in alarm. He thought that Mickey had been sound asleep. "Fuckhead! My jello..." Mickey mumbled again.

Ian paused, before suddenly realizing with a laugh that Mickey was so out of it that he was just mumbling in his sleep. The redhead relaxed again, snuggling closer to Mickey. He rubbed his thumb lovingly over Mickey's skin, enjoying the freedom of being able to touch Mickey in ways that he'd never been allowed to before.

They laid like that for a long while, Ian half-listening in amusement to Mickey babbling in his sleep.

"Firecrotch..." Mickey murmured after a while. Ian opened his eyes again in interest. Mickey was talking about _him_. "M'glad... I 'ave you."

The realization of what Mickey said made butterflies fill Ian's stomach.

"I'm glad I have you too, Mick," he said quietly.

He sighed and wished that Mickey felt comfortable enough to say those things when he was awake.

Mickey usually tried so hard to fake that their feelings for each other weren't real. But seeing Mickey like this, unable to fake it, made Ian fall in love with him even more.


End file.
